Cry Your Eyes Out
by RkR
Summary: Sasuke sees the dead. Those whose eyes are dull and void of life. After moving to a new home he finds it is haunted with a restless ghost named Naruto, whose eyes glint with so much life it makes you want to cry so much, you'd wish you didn't have eyes.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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_I see dead people._

- Sear, Cole. _The Sixth Sense_

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**E**ver since I could remember I have been able to see _things_. Well, not exactly _things_, more like people. People I never even knew in my life come and talk to me, as if they were alive. Little girls and boys, grown men and woman, elderly, teenagers come, animals come and bark at me or wag their tail for me to throw a stick.

It frightened me how I saw people others did not. It scared me half to death that when I'd be walking home from school, or just talking a stress-walk, I'd see someone that was already dead _all the time_. Sometimes it still gives me goosebumps to see someone's pale face and dull eyes stare right at me in silence, pleading with their lifeless eyes for help. Sometimes though, they don't know they're dead.

I never thought of the effect my special girft had on my family. I always thought they knew when I was younger, because most of the time they'd ignore the fact of what I could see, of _who _I could see -as if they were used to it, as if they knew. It turned out that they were just getting over the shock by the time I was eight when I told them that grandma said hi. Ironically, I have never met my grandmother, she died before I was born.

I remember I saw my mother crying one night when I was ten. The memory is still so clear in my head. I remember that she sobbed in utter pain and shook with cold shudders and trembles. She mumbled things I couldn't hear and rocked back and forth. The way she let down her tears freely and clasped her hands in front of her face letting the tears drench her hands -it seemed to me like she was pleading for something with all her might and heart. She was pleading for some kind of pain to end. I remember that as soon as I saw her I shed tears too. Something grabbed my heart and squeezed it making my chest hurt. My throat had a big ugly knot in it preventing me from gulping or even talking, and the tears in my eyes stung so much and came in overflowing waterfalls. I shook too, and sobbed loudly, I wanted for her to hear me, I wanted for her to stop. I dropped to the floor in our living room and sobbed, pleading loudly for her not to cry, not for me. Because somehow I knew that's what made her cry, she was crying for me.

_That night she came running to me, crouched beside me, hugged me with gentle arms...and cried with me._

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M**y mother had cried that day for me not because she though I was a freak, or because she thought her son was crazy and she felt pity for herself; no, that wasn't it at all. She had cried because 

she knew that this gift I was born with would bring me pain of unimaginable depth, sorrow so deep it would make you drown, a gut smearing fear that wrenched at your soul making it impossible for you to speak, and numbness that made it seem like you'd never feel mirth again. She called it, "things I wasn't ready for".

At a young age, I had experienced horrible things to an extent, things no one likes to see and feel. However I felt whenever I saw the dead; I couldn't stutter it, I couldn't say it. Everything about my special gift, was ineffably painful and sad. It used to make me want to cry rivers of blood just to see that if such pain got out my system, that maybe I might be able to withstand what sprung at my gut and knotted my throat when I usually saw a spirit's eyes. I got used to it after some time, though I have never felt what my mom described, and for that I am grateful.

I still wait for that one day when I will feel what my mother had described with such strain in her voice that night. I wait for that one day when someone will make me feel at such miserable loss, someone that will make me cry so much I wish I didn't have eyes. I hope that when that day comes, I will be able to ease the pain of the soul -along with mine.

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M**other died exactly one year, three months, a week and three days ago. The last words she said to me where, "I'm happy you're finally smiling" after she told me a funny joke, and the last breath she took was at exactly 8:43AM. I never got to tell her anything before her heart stopped, and her eyes dulled -just like all the others. I remember exactly what I did that night after I left the hospital with my father and my older brother. I went up to my room and waited, even though I knew it was highly unlikely, for my mother to come and hug me with gentle arms again so that I could say to her how much she meant to me, and how much she still does. 

I still remember the outcome: she never came.

That night was the night in which I felt some of the great extent of my gift. Seeing my mother on the bed -_dead_- struck a chord in me that pulled the trigger of fear in my heart and let the dam in my eyes collapse so that I could cry with that deep sorrow that almost broke me apart.

Since then I have wondered why she didn't come to see me. I never had control of who I saw, or what –I just did, and when she never came to see me I wondered if it was because she didn't want to. Then I started wondering _why_ she wouldn't want to see her own son after her death, when her son would be very much be able to see her and hear her. I felt utterly alone and frustrated with myself, even if my father and my brother, Itachi, felt the same things at the moment. I wanted to punch things, I skipped school, I stopped talking. One day while I was about to throw my lamp across the my room for umpteenth millionth time I felt a sharp, hard, swift hit in my head -as if someone had hit me with their bare knuckles –and that's when I heard it. Her voice.

"_Stop it right now Sasuke Uchiha!" _

I stopped and my heart skipped a painful beat -my breath shook and I swore that the temperature dropped greatly. I shudder went down my spine –I got goosebumps.

"W-what...?" I stuttered surprised, paralyzed in my position of blind rage, about to throw the lamp.

"_Stop it!"_

I flinched and dropped the lamp to the floor, and as it came down with a loud crash I could have sworn I heard a sigh of relief and tiredness behind me. My eyes widened and I spun around swiftly, "Mother...?" I whispered lowly, expecting an answer. I got none, and I saw no one in the room I was alone.

I'm not crazy. I hear voices, I see people, I see things -I _don't _hallucinate, I learned that a _long_ time ago. I know what I heard, and who. My mother had come, even if only briefly, to tell me to stop and I knew she didn't just mean the little tantrum I was in the middle of. She was sad, and she was also relived, and her strict voice didn't hide that fact.

After a few seconds in silence I decided to find out if she was still with me, so I called her again in a softer voice (I had already forgotten all about my anger). It didn't work, and she didn't respond. For the second time in my life, my mother had left me without me able to tell her anything at all. I dropped to the floor in my knees, head bowed down in shame and sadness. The stinging in my knees informed me that I had landed on the broken glass of the light bulb, and the blood reminded me that _I _was alive. I shook in the floor, I was still cold. Tears threatened to come down my cheeks, and my throat was knotted so roughly I coughed.

_Stupid!_

I pounded my fists on the wooden floor in the shatters of white glass, not regretting the fact that it hurt.

_How could I have been so stupid?!_

Hit, punch, hit the floor again.

_So selfish?_

I yelled in anger and punched the floor where the white glass was. I saw the blood stain the wood, but strangely I felt no pain.

_Damn it... Damn it!_

I hugged myself, and I shook in anger, and shame, but I dared not shed a tear. Not one. I caused my mother enough grief, I didn't want to make her sad by seeing me cry. I was going to do as told, I was going to stop.

I remember what I said that day, and I always will.

I took a deep shaky breath, I let it out and said, "...Okay. I'll stop. Don't worry."

In that moment I felt a great warmth engulf me in a ball, and I felt those gentle familiar arms encircle around me. I heard a faint whisper say, "_I love you..."_ and instantly, that warmth was gone -but I still felt loved, still felt fuzzed and over-taken with my Mother's love.

"I'm sorry. I love you. Thanks...Mother," where the last words I said before she left. I knew this time that she was there to hear it.

After months of not smiling, not laughing, not talking and ignoring everyone more than usual, I had finally stopped. I smiled after my little encounter. I smiled so wide that my face hurt a little.

The last things I heard all day was my door swiftly opening, my brother's quick footsteps coming towards me, and his voice urgently saying, "Are you okay Sasuke? You're bleeding!".

My last and first words in a long time that day were, "Yeah. I am.".

The next day, I no longer punched things, I went to school, and I said "good morning" to my family. I also smiled, just a _little_ bit more.

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**M**y family, consisting of my father, Fagaku Uchiha, and my brother, Itachi Uchiha, and me (of course), Sasuke Uchiha decided to move to a new house. It wasn't a new place, we still lived in the town of Konohagakure, but we were moving to a different part of town. I could still visit Mother, but I had to move schools. My older brother could still come visit his friends frequently, and my father could rest easily knowing that we were still in our home, our birth place –close to Mother, and his wife. 

We left Friday morning, saw our new house the same day, and found out that besides us there was someone else living there too, a week later.

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**M**y last house didn't have someone's ghost in it. They just came on their own, or I randomly saw them on the street. My grandma visited me a lot when I was younger, and sometimes someone would randomly show up in my room in the middle of the night or day and stare at me with their dull eyes -sometimes never saying anything. I usually ignored them at day and tried to sleep at night, but they never left, and even came back the next day. They never left me alone, it was like I was a magnet to ghosts, like I had my ability written all over my face, skin, and clothes. 

But now it was different, I knew someone lived in our house by the strange things that happened -by those feelings I always got every time one of them was near. It felt very cold all of the sudden, I shiver ran up my spine, and sometimes I got goosebumps. There was no mistaking it, even if I didn't see him or her, they or it were there –just watching me. Even by all those years of being used to it, it still scared the shit out of me. Most of them didn't know they were dead, some did -that's why they came to me and stared at me. So as the days grew on, I wondered...did this person know he or she was dead?

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"It irritates me that sometimes at home it feels like I'm being guarded, you know?" I said as me and Itachi walked to house after visiting his friends back in our old residence. We had taken the bus and back again, so now all we did was walk the 30 minute walk.

Itachi grunted, "No."

I had to hand it to my brother, he was less of a talker than me –but one hell of a listener. Still, he could at least try to understand. He might not have the same ability as me, but he must've felt something on one occasion, right?

"You could at least_ try_ to comprehend me here," I said plainly as we turned a corner, "I'm not just telling you because all you do is grunt and say almost nothing." Somehow, the way I said it sounded like an indirect compliment, a way of saying 'you're a good listener –you don't judge, interrupt, and give me useless advice'.

"You can't blame me, I don't feel the same way you do –nor does dad. We're like, _frigid_ to the feelings you experience in our house." He had a point. I looked at my feet as we walked. I couldn't help but notice something in the quiet and rhythmic sounds of our footsteps...why did it still feel like...like he was still angry after all this time?

We walked in comfortable silence for the next few minutes. Me pondering about his possible continuous anger at me, and Itachi just walking in his own thoughts.

"Are you still angry?" I asked all of the sudden, surprising myself as well. Itachi almost stopped walking. **Got him**. Quickly regaining his posture and staring at me intensely he asked calmly, "what are you talking about?"

_You__ know__ what,_ I thought as I looked back at him with the same intense stare, _don't act as if you're over it, I know you're not. _I tried making my thoughts surpass my mouth, but it didn't work.I reverted my gaze back to the sidewalk, "Nothing," I said trying not to sound defeated, "forget I said anything."

I wanted to punch him for being such a jerk.

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**W**ho was I kidding? Talking with Itachi about something he had no idea about... Not to mention, he was my ego-engulfed, monotonous, merciless (in some cases), silent, broody, moody older brother. He was worse than a teenage girl on her period -though he was like that everyday which is even worse. So you can see how girls play a minimal part in my life. 

I sat in my room looking at my homework -yet still not really concentrating (damn Itachi). My first day of school, and I had a lot to catch-up with. I felt like the teachers thought of me as stupid enough to forget what I had learned a week ago. Honestly, I'm not bad in school (or particularly good at it either), but I'm not dumb either. My anger only rose up as I thought of Itachi's anger and resentment towards me.

_Why the hell is he __still_...--

I sighed. I looked at my homework, not really thinking about it in particular.

"After all this time...he's still --" I stopped mid sentence as I felt a sudden jolt. I flinched and my eyes went wide.

I felt something strange coming up –I couldn't describe it. It felt like when you're going up the stairs in the dark and you feel someone is behind you, only you know that you are alone. A penetrating shiver leveled up my spine, and my breath hitched. I know this feeling personally.

He's here, I know it.

I could feel my heart thump harshly in my ears and my eyes grow wide. Was it me, or did it get five times colder than the usual warm-enough temperature? Sweat trickled down my forehead as I clutched my pencil tightly, I felt an intense stare at me behind my back and fear was taking over my senses. I wanted to look back, but that butterfly tickle in my stomach wanted to hold back. I was nervous...scared to the point I couldn't talk -or scream, or yell.

I tried to say something, anything but it only came up as a high pitched whisper to my discontent.

It was now, or never.

I twitched. That slight movement motivated me to turn more and more, slowly –in that twisted fear I was used to. I could hear my breath come in and out through my mouth and nostrils deeply, heavily and my heart rate increased tenfold. _Here goes. _In an instant I twirled all the way around ready to meet those dull eyes that had been haunting my family and I since we moved.

My head throbbed in beats as I saw the person before me, and my breath hitched in a silent gasp. Staring at me with a blank expression and a pale complexion was a young boy about my age. His skin was -or used to be- tan, but now it was a deathly mix of a pale, gray and tan. Three slight scars adorned each of his pale cheeks. His hair was blond and stale. But what most got me was his eyes. His eyes where blue, blue and bright as they stared at me with their pale purple bags under them. They pierced me with a fear and sadness in me heart I never felt before. They scared me. _He scares me_ –I admitted to myself.

In the same instant he appeared he left, and everything went back to normal; but my arms and legs were frozen stiff in their place. I realized...I couldn't move, and I couldn't breathe either. I tried to twitch, inhale, to move..._anything _that would give me a sign that everything was okay, that I didn't die of a stab of fear. My room was covered in an eerie silence for minutes with no end.

It was only when my brain realized that the lungs weren't doing their job that I hitched a painful gasp, flinching at the sudden movement and sting in my throat, I fell from my chair to the floor. My eyes widened in utmost fear and I panted loudly and urgently -trying to get to my regular breathing. I coughed and gaged from that knot that suddenly formed in my throat. What was this feeling that felt like I was holding back tears?...

His eyes. They weren't like the others...they weren't dull. Those hues of blues in his eyes...in this _dead_ boys sockets...bright and twinkling with what seemed to be mirth. His eyes ...

"They're alive..."

They glinted with _life_.

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Heheh, I was bored. Probably will never be continued, but...peh. 

Um. Yeah.

I edited some stuff I missed last time...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own _Naruto_.

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_I'm not crazy. I hear voices, I see people, I see things -I don't hallucinate, I learned that a long time ago._

-Sasuke Uchiha [from chapter one

(Don't you just love the irony in that line?-laugh-)

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**T W O**

**T**he feeling of holding back tears did not go after I saw his face and his eyes. It felt like an overwhelming sorrow was covering my very heart. I felt like crying was the only thing that would give me relief from the closed air in my lungs and the twisting knot in the back of my throat. My heart felt like it sunk, and my eyes stung as if tears wanted to spill but they _wouldn't_. I blinked thinking that the build up tears would come down my cheeks, but even after I waited, nothing came. I felt but the unbearable stinging in the corners of my eyes. I cried out quietly as it began to burn my eyeballs.

_What the hell...? _I stood up in knees and quickly rubbed my eyes with my palms.

"Ugh..." still I felt the stinging and burning sensation surround my eyeballs.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ I rubbed harder, bringing my fingers to massage my eyes. Soon it started to hurt more and more. The burning was becoming unbearable, I felt stinging and throbbing inside my eyelids and the rubbing was making it worse. I groaned louder as if it would help ease the pain. Soon, I could no longer stand it.

Quickly, I stood up on shaky legs. I kept my fingers still lingering gently in my eyes to keep them from opening. I cried out quietly in pain as I very slowly removed my hands from my eyes and cracked one of them open to a squint.

I couldn't see, all I could see was blurry furniture from my room.

Suddenly, a I felt like a small bullet had been shot into my eye. I crushed my eyes closed in a painful slam, and screamed in pain. I yelped and whimpered loudly, and rubbed my eyes harder and harder, hopping that it would make me tear-up.

I felt tears coming, instantly I felt relieved as if the sole action of crying would make the pain stop. Slowly I opened my eyes. The liquid was slowly building up, and the tightness that was around my eyes loosened.

I waited for the right moment to blink and closed my eyes tightly. Instantly I felt the moisture slowly slide down my cheeks in thin slow streaks. I sighed in relief as I felt the pain slowly loose it's intensity. I opened my eyes and blinked, again I felt the tears slide down my face, only faster. I sniffed and bought my palms to my face to dry the tears.

I stopped suddenly, realizing how tears smudged against my palm. They were thicker, heavier, and dried almost instantly in my skin.

"Wha...t?" I asked myself out loud wearily, tired from the pain I had experienced earlier. Slowly I bought my hands down to inspect my palms.

My breath hitched, and my eyes widened as I looked at the drying and cracking crimson smudged against my open palms. Another knot formed in my throat, and I felt like screaming.

The thick liquid slid slowly down my cheek again and my face was abruptly struck with fear.

Those weren't the usual salty, clear, tears.

It was blood.

My knees trembled, and I almost fell to the floor again from the shock.

I wanted to scream again, but my throat couldn't find my voice. I smeared the blood on my face as I dried the tears feeling more thick blood slide down my cheek slowly. Throughout five minutes I just felt them come down my cheeks and then dry in my palms as I wiped them with my hands. I tried thinking, but the shock I was in obviously clouded my mind of any action.

The minutes seemed to last for hours and I began wondering if I was bleeding to death. Millions of thoughts passed through my brain instantly.

What was I supposed to do? Call an ambulance and say what? What would father and my brother think if they came home and found and ambulance parked outside their new home, or if they got a call from a doctor?

I pondered on whether I should call Itachi. I imagined myself counting the minutes it took him to get home at the news that I was probably bleeding to death. Father was definitely out of the question, he had enough at work, he didn't need to deal with anymore.

_I can handle this..._I tried to convince myself, _it's no big deal..._

"Dammit," I cringed as more blood streamed down my face, "this phase of thinking isn't working..."

I suddenly flinched as I felt a straight cold object be injected harshly in my lower back. I flinched again as I felt another painful jolt in the middle of my back.

I cried in pain as my back started to throb and burn. I couldn't move. I whimpered softly as I felt my back sting unbearably.

As I stumbled ready to fall to the floor, another pang of pain hit my upper back, then with the same force, my lower. I coughed into my hand and fell to my knees. My heart beat rose as it crashed against my chest in painful, fast beats and thumps. I felt that I was being torn apart by the pain I was enduring. My body, my _back_,hurt and throbbed as if large nail was being hammered onto my back hard and merciless. I groaned, cringing and coughing.

"What the hell..."

My back stung and burned as if a hot lit light bulb was being rubbed up and down my back repeatedly. I could feel the hard object steak right from the back of my chest again. I yelped out in pain.

My hand felt wet with blood, _great_, I thought, _I'm going to bleed to death, my back hurts like hell -and I don't even know why_.

I dropped to my knees groaning at the impact from the floor to my bare skin. My eyes began to blur, but it wasn't the blood that was clogging my eyesight. I began to panic. My heart pounding in my chest even harder as I realized what was happening.

_Shit._

I held my head as I felt myself sway from balance. The slight touch of needles was all over my face, and heat was overwhelming my head at an alarming rate. I tried to stay awake, but it seemed that the sun was coming down faster than usual. I saw black dots as my head hit the cold, hard floor.

As my eyesight faded away, and I started to drift slowly into the darkness, I saw naked feet in front of my face, standing still. I felt a feather wind hit my face, and with the feeling that someone's stare was bearing on me, my eyes subconsciously closed.

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B L U N T L Y 

**W**hen I woke up I was in the study room, and the carpet was stained with lengthy dried blood-stains. I felt like a collage student with a very bad hang-over from way too many shots the night before and still as light as air. I tried standing up from the floor, but my muscles felt like they had turned to jelly. Sticky, bouncy, slippery jelly. So bouncy in fact, that all I managed to do was with much effort, sit on my knees.

I felt cold. My fingers where numb with the stiffness, dry and rough –I didn't realize it then, but I actually thought I felt cold and tingly because of the shock I was in from whatever had hit me.

Silly, isn't it?

It took a few moments for me to 'recuperate' from my little ordeal, and I was finally able to stand up in my two legs. At first I was a little lost. I mean, how long had I been out? Had a passed out from all my crying? Why was I on the floor? If there's blood on the carpet, how come I can stand up perfectly still? Nothing hurt, I was intact, not missing any limbs, and as far as I knew I was perfectly healthy.

Keyword: WAS.

The funny thing is, I didn't feel a thing before I passed out. All I felt was a slight feathery wind caressing my face gently. It was airy, almost surreal. It was confusing, it felt almost like a random moment in which you wanna yell out, "what the hell?" but at the same time never leave it.

I couldn't remember anything before that. All I knew is that I had cried, and then nothing.

I stood up, ready to go look for my guardian, ready to tell him that I felt like crap and that whatever boo-boo I had needed attention. I looked at the digital clock in the desk of the study, 6:44. _Good_, I had thought, _the meeting is over, he's been here more than two hours already_. I failed to realize that if he had gotten home earlier, he would have come looking for me, and found me in the carpeted floor laying in a blood bed.

And I'd be waking up in a hospital bed _alive_ and _well_.

I took a deep breath to break the eerie silence that surrounded the room, and to make me feel less tense. A little voice told me something was wrong, my gut was telling me that I should wake up and smell the coffee, my mind was telling me it was okay; that everything was fine, and my brain throbbed with something that sounded like: _you're in denial_.

Keywords yet again: _WAS_ FINE.

Not being able to stand what I was feeling I instantly ran out and yelled for my guardian, the person who had taken care of me since I was nine. My bare feet touched the cold wooden floor in the hallways, as I broke into a slight sprint.

"Iruka!"

I ran through the hallways in urgency, the framed photos in the wall were only blurs as I passed through them, and the windows gave off this weird sunlight, as if the sun rays themselves were pitying my stupidity.

"Iruka!"

I ran even more frustrated down the stairwell, and down the hallways of the first floor. Desperately trying to hear something. Anything. Any sign that Iruka was there cooking, or Iruka was watching television. Any sound, even the occasional scold that I should put some shoes on coming from the man who agreed to raise me after my parents had died.

But that was the problem.

I heard nothing. Absolutely nothing.

That's when I started to panic. That's when I immediately came to a halt in the middle of the living room with eyes wide.

Nothing. Nothing Nothing. _Nothing_. I had heard nothing but quiet.

_Silence_.

I panicked as I stomped on the wooden floor, all that reached my ears was my rigid breathing. I stomped the floor harder and harder each time, trying to make it sound like a thousand drums where being played in the living room full-force.

No sound came at all. All I could hear was my harsh panting, and my pounding heart in my chest, it's weight slowly crushing my insides.

I had no footsteps, no sound. No thump, thump, thump. I had ignored the fact that when I ran I couldn't hear the flesh of my feet hit the floor softly. I didn't hear the usual stampede of feet hitting the hard wood like I did every morning running swiftly to breakfast. My eyes widened, my heart felt like it stopped.

_Do I even have a heart?_

I raised my hand slowly to my face, and looked at it.

Solid. It was solid, or at least, it looked solid. The last time I checked solid things made sounds, even if your feet are bare you have to hear something, no matter what. When you clap your hands, you hear something like thunder.

Right?

I wanted to cry, but I couldn't, and I wouldn't. I took a deep shaky breath in attempts at calming myself down.

That's when I heard a crashing sound in the kitchen. My head snapped up and my hopes rose up as I thought of Iruka explaining to me that this was some sort of puberty phase I was going through and that it would be over soon. I ran to the kitchen, not caring whether or not I heard anything below me, just with the objective in mind of getting to the kitchen.

I ran hard, my feet stinging from the friction between my naked feet and the cold floor. I turned the corner and almost slipped because of my speed.

"Iruka?!" I yelled out, as I regained my balance and speed off again. I slowed down as I neared the doorway to the kitchen and stopped right before entering, panting softly. I looked up slowly.

There he was, sitting on the floor leaning on the counter by the table. His elbows resting on his slightly bent knees, head hung low. I wanted to take another step forward to enter the sanctuary we both shared in the morning, but something stopped me. Something held me back. Iruka was in the dark.

A tense air swirled around him, and you could almost see the dark cloud looming over him pouring down a dense, dry, invisible rain. I felt so down just standing there, it made me almost want to cry.

Standing there, with the tense air and sadness in the room, you could have guessed that someone had_...died._

"Ir-" something stuck at my throat, and I chocked, "Ir- Iru-" I stuttered the words out, and I couldn't figure out what was happening. I wanted to leave, but it was like my feet where sewed onto the wooden floor with wires. Neither of us uttered a sound.

Iruka just sat there leaning over, his eyes cast down on the floor, the plate broken and shattered in front of him.

_Drip. _

_Drip._

_Drip._

The facet leaked drops of cold water into the steel sink.

"Iruka?" I asked softly, carefully. It felt like he wouldn't hear me. Like he couldn't.

There was a long deafening silence in the room. My lips prickled with anxiety to utter the words in my mind.

_What's going on?_

But to no avail, no words came out of my mouth, no matter how much I tried to make a sound. All I could do was stare at Iruka as he looked down to the floor. His eyes dull and sad. Fatigue was detectable in his eyes, like he hadn't slept for days.

After a few minutes, I finally gathered up the courage to take a step forward. Iruka didn't so much as flinch. I took another step and another, slowly making my way beside the man, hands to my sides and eyes never leaving his gloomy form. I took a deep breath, readying myself for my voice to come.

"Ir-"

"Naruto..." I didn't get to finish my sentence, as he cut me off himself. His voice was shaky and dry as he uttered those words.

"Please," he whispered, "forgive me..." I stared at him in confusion, I thought at the moment that I knew exactly what he was talking.

"What are you talking about Iruka?" I asked, suddenly finding my voice, "wouldn't they listen? Are they taking me away?" He didn't answer, all he did was shake uncontrollably below me, "I'm sorry..." he echoed again, "please, forgive me..."

"Iruka?"

He rose his head to reveal a tired face, dry and wrinkled beyond his years. Before I could say anything again, he began to sob. He shook as tears streamed down his face.

"...Iruka?" I asked quietly, but I had gotten the feeling that he didn't hear me.

He suddenly threw his head backwards and hit it with the counter. I flinched as I heard his head hit the wooden floor cabinet.

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

He crushed his eyes together as he began to cry more and more. Hitting his head on the counter over and over.

I stared in horror as I heard his head make contact with the wood, each and every thump making a shiver run up my spine. Goosebumps glazed over my arms as I stared, eyes wide with fear.

"S-stop..." I tried to say to make him halt his actions, "stop!" he kept on hitting his head, over and over. My heart pounded against my chest violently as I watched the scene before me. My eyes watered with unshed tears as I struggled to breath. I stomped my feet, as if he could hear them even though I couldn't, "Stop it!"

"Please stop!" I cried to him angry.

He wouldn't hear me.

_He couldn't hear me._

He kept on hitting his head on the wood he was leaning on. Nothing was making him stop. I took my head into my hands and shook my head violently, "STOP!" I cried, "Stop it!" I could hear my breathing come hard, raspy, and quick making my chest hurt and throb. My lungs felt contracted and shriveled. He began to sob loud and broken, his throat dry, "I'm sorry Minato..." he cried.

He sobbed and whimpered pathetically, and I watched helplessly as he tore his own heart apart with sorrow. I covered my ears with my hands and pressed against them, "Stop!" I said, delaying the word. I shook.

He stopped suddenly, and all I could hear was his breath hitch, trying to hold in his cry.

"Please stop..." I felt wet tears coming down my cheeks, "no more, Iruka..."

I thought he had heard me at first, but how could he have? I wasn't there.

He couldn't hear me, see me, talk to me.

I had finally realized that my words were falling on deaf ears. He began to shiver, and I saw through my eyes, blurry with tears, his breath come out in poofs of vapor. I bowed my head low. I didn't want to look.

"No more." he lifted his head, and 'looked' at me.

I smiled shakily, because for a moment I thought he could hear me -that he saw me, even. After a few minutes of shivering, he stood up, picked up the shattered pieces of the plate and left without a second glance.

I just stood there watching him pick up the mess and leave, not really looking up, not really looking down.

As he slowly walked passed me, tears still present in his face, I remember seeing him shiver violently, and rub his hands together for warmth. I let out a low painful sob.

Soon I was left alone in the kitchen, pondering over why I couldn't hear my footsteps, and why Iruka couldn't hear my voice.

_Why I was being so ignorant. _

I sighed loudly, closing my eyes and shaking as a mournful cry left my lips. I clutched my jaw and looked up at the ceiling.

I got ready to say the words that the back of my mind were screaming to me from the beginning.

"_I'm dead."

* * *

_

**I** watched the boy laying quietly on the floor attentively. He was breathing, so he didn't die. He has just experienced what few people have when they've tried to live in this house. It wasn't like I was torturing him, he just re-enacted for me the last few minutes of my life. It was entertainment (in a way), not torment, just a welcoming comity. I thought it entertaining, people thought it creepy and left the house with a horror story to share and no proof. Obviously we had different tastes in humor.

It seems that becoming a ghost has made me strangely sadistic.

I chuckled at my own joke as I watched the boy on the floor with narrowed eyes. I smirked.

I knew he saw me, and that days before he had sensed me. He knew I was living here, I could tell by the way he tensed up whenever I entered a room, or watched him and his family. Now he would have no doubts that I was here.

A smile slowly crept on my lips as the thought crossed my mind...

Maybe, just maybe,

_"You'll be able to help me..."

* * *

_

**Notes:**

And that's the end of it folks (not literally of course). I was having too much fun with it to just leave it hanging. There are still many ideas in my head on how this will turn out though. Besides that fact, people seemed to actually like this, and hopefully I didn't disappoint anyone with this chapter.

Be warned though, updates will be slow (very, painfully slow).

Besides that, there you have it! Part of Naruto's strange past of when he was alive. I remember someone wrote in a review that there were some unanswered questions; that was very intended –just so you know. I don't plan on telling all in one chapter (hopefully, it isn't too confusing the way I'm doing it now). All questions shall be answered slowly but surely...

Oh and this whole Sasuke's POV and then Naruto's POV, is how this story is told. However, I didn't intend on this chapter having both Sasuke's and Naruto's view and it will hopefully not happen again. I want it to be Sasuke's POV in one chapter, then Naruto's POV in another, Sasuke's, then Naruto's and so on in rotation.

Until next update,

RkR


	3. Chapter 3

'Naruto talking when he is visible'

_'Naruto talking when he is not visible'_

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

_.............................................._

"_Life is consciousness"_

_Emmet Fox_

**T H R E E **

**.................................................................**

**M**y head throbbed and pounded against my forehead and ears.

I groaned.

I did not want to wake up just to feel like a bucket full of crap. I scrunched my eyes shut tightly.

_Shit..._I let the word drag in my mind for the longest time possible just to get my thoughts on something else rather than the pain in my head and back. I took a slow, deep breath as I opened my eyes.

I stared at my left hand in a loose fist in front of me. I turned my eyes to the wall, empty, it was almost like the wall itself was watching me closely. Cautiously taking in my every move.

But then again, that's what everyone feels when they're alone.

My cheek began to feel extremely warm as I realized it was flat against the floor, stiffly waiting for me to move again. I sighed, "Might as well get this over with..." I held back a yawn as I stretched out my palms on the sides of head. Gently I lifted myself up, feeling like I had just finished three hundred push-ups without rest. My muscles felt strained, and as soon as I stood on my two knees my back began to feel warm and tender. Light prickles of nothing swarmed my back, making it feel warm and moist. I flinched as I felt a pang of pain strike up my spine.

I began to wonder if I was beaten up after I had passed out.

Slowly I rose up to my feet, my legs felt heavy, and sticky. I struggled standing up, as I stumbled slightly on my own two legs.

_How long was I out? _I thought to myself as I took a careful step back and turned around to look at the digital clock in my bed.

4:50PM

I narrowed my eyes. I was out for almost two hours? Itachi and my father were obviously not back, otherwise they would've come looking for me in my room and found me on the floor half bleeding to death.

My eyes widened at the realization.

I quickly bought my hands to my face and eyes scanning them carefully with my fingers. I felt the blood crack beneath my fingers and fall to small, powdery pieces to the floor. I looked at my fingers and my palms, traces of blood evident in the skin. My eyes felt like they were trembling.

I opened my mouth to say something but I forgot the words.

It wasn't a dream. It really happened. It was my blood.

_'Hey...'_

My head instantly snapped up, and swiftly I turned around and found no one wanting my attention.

Any rational person would have put it off as a figment of their imagination, a prestige reminder based on a memory. Not me. I never have.

If I heard it, chances were –it was real.

I breathed out, but didn't see my breath. It wasn't cold. The roller coaster was over. Whoever was watching me within the walls was no longer in turmoil. I looked around suspiciously, expecting to see the face I saw before I passed out.

Nothing. All that greeted me with it's presence was silence, and yet I wasn't alone. I knew those eyes were watching me, carefully memorizing my every move, waiting for the moment to reveal it's presence. Whoever it was, he knew I was here, and that I could sense him, that I could see him clear as day.

I can feel it in my bones.

Just like all the others.

He knew.

.................................................

**I **stared at my reflection in the mirror as I splashed water on my face. Slowly the water cleansed my face of the dried crimson color. The water dripped from my chin and nose, as I looked down and watched the swirls of blood dance around the drain.

_What happened...? _was the only thought that kept coming to my train of thought. I really wanted to know why I felt such pain in my back and cried without reason. No sorrow or anything relatively close to sadness...just pain. Pure, unmistakable, physical, and unknown emotional pain. It hurt, and it was real. But I wasn't dead, and it looked like I didn't even bleed that much.

I sighed as I dried my face with my towel. _Now to clean the floor..._I didn't want Itachi or my father to surprise me and come in to look at a blood-smeared floor.

They'd ask questions, and questions demand answers. My answer wasn't exactly...normal.

I crouched down to my knees and started whipping the blood off the floors with my towel.

_'Hey...' _I stopped whipping and swiftly turned around and suspiciously searched with my eyes everywhere. Looking for the source of the voice. I felt like someone was playing a game. As if someone poked my shoulder to get my attention and as soon as I turn around, they look away and act innocent.

"This is really starting to get annoying..." I mumbled as I turned and started to clean the floor again. I started to wonder how many times that happened to me before, the cold and the feeling, and that no matter how many times it happened it was still annoying.

Then I thought of how many times I actually bled because of this. My own answer was none.

_Maybe I'm just an irritable person_...I thought as I dumped that towel into the bucket of water. I drained the towel of water and began to dry the floor.

Without warning I felt a cold wind behind me and instantly I knew what it was. I stood still, as I felt a shiver run up my spine. I stood silently in the floor, trying hard to listen to anything –anything at all.

Nothing.

g_ggiiissskk _

My attention snapped to the still drying floor before my eyes. Slowly, my eyes widened as I bored at what was in front of me. On the floor, the letter "B" was being written on the wet floor, the water being forced apart to form the curves and lines. I watched as the sounds made letters and the letters made a word. Attentively I drew my head closer to the floor, trying to get a closer look before the letters disappeared as the thin layer of water dried. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I watched the letters form in quickly drying wood.

"Boo." I read, as soon as it was finished. My mind boggled and worked to comprehend what I had just read. A little lost at first a let my mouth hang ajar. As soon as the meaning of the word reached me, my eye twitched.

_How...? Ugh._ My mind shuffled with curses. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down, _this is ridiculous! _I thought. I tightened my hold on the towel, feeling like I should rip it apart with my bare hand.

"Boo?" I repeated aloud, "BOO!?" I yelled, "I waited around for the word 'BOO'?" I took the towel and hastily wiped the remaining water from the floor leaving it dry. I gave an exhausted sigh.

"Is this some kind of joke?" I called out loudly to no one letting out all my frustration. I stood up quickly and walked back the bathroom, murmuring curses and insults.

_'At least I didn't write __beware__' _I heard someone say arrogantly behind me. I flinched and quickly turned around to find the source of the voice.

No one. I felt my eyebrow twitch slightly, and as soon as I realized what the situation was I growled again. I scowled, "How annoying..." and turned again heading for the bathroom.

_'__I'm__ annoying? Don't you think you're overreacting?' _I heard the same voice say. I decided to ignore it and kept on walking to the bathroom. There was a silence.

'_Don't ignore me you bastard!' _was the response to my action, I just entered the bathroom and looked for my clothes basket.

_'Hey! I'm talking to you, you ass!'_ My eye twitched as I threw the towel onto the basket to later be washed.

_Like hell you are after that little stunt, _I thought aggravated.

_'I know you can hear me you know, and see me,' _he added. I kept ignoring him and walked out of the bathroom as if no one was talking to me.

_Technically no one can, _I added as an after thought while I walked to my desk to close my books.

_'Don't ignore me darn it,' _I heard behind me. I stopped, hopping to seem clearly annoyed at the current interaction with the 'guest' in my room.

"I'm not," I said simply, "I'm just pretending I didn't hear you." I heard a small growl follow my statement, and suddenly the air around me got cooler. I could almost feel a draft. Whoever this person was, he was getting annoyed.

_'Fine then,' _I heard him say childishly, _'here I try to apologize, and you act like I shoved a metal pole up your ass! I was just playing!'_ I heard a light grunt, _'Asshole.' _

Just like that he was gone. I couldn't feel anything or anyone anymore, he was gone.

For now, anyway.

….......................................................

**W**alking to and from school isn't exactly one of my favorite activities of the day. Especially in such an old place. Old villages meant history. History meant stories, and along with stories came people.

And people don't live forever.

I could see people walking to their destinations as if nothing was wrong, because to them nothing was really wrong. Not even the fact that they looked deathly pale or had mortal wounds in some part of their bodies was strange. They lived in their own time. Nothing was out of place for them. It just was.

_'They're all kind of odd, aren't they?' _my eyes snapped in attention, and I stopped and turned around swiftly, catching a glimpse of his pale-tan face and stale yellow hair. I narrowed my eyes, as the familiar light shiver ran up my spine and into my neck.

"What?" I asked before I could stop myself.

_'They're odd,'_ he repeated, _'some of them don't even notice that they're living in the present' _I heard him sigh beside me. I just kept quiet and stared at my left side as if someone was really there talking to me.

_'What?' _he questioned, _'do you want me to talk in echoes? Or maybe all wavy like? I mean, I sound normal enough. Don't tell me a ghost has never really spoken to you,'_ I could almost see him cross his arms over his chest while looking at me questioningly. I shook my head, "They speak to me. Sometimes."

I heard a triumphant 'ha!' and suddenly he appeared right beside me on my left. I almost flinched as I saw his face again. A tan, pale color and stale yellow hair. His face was marked by three slashes on each cheek. I tried not staring straight at his sunken eyes, bright and blue and alive. I failed.

He stared at me with an almost incredulous expression. I raised an eyebrow in question.

'I never actually thought you'd talk back, or not run away and yell at me,' he stared at me, eyes a little wide, 'what's with the change? No pole in the ass?'. I glared at him and without saying anything I walked away.

'Hey! Wait! I didn't meant it, honest!' I heard him cry behind me, but kept on walking trying to ignore his presence right behind me.

I walked as if no one was following me, and he walked as if he wasn't following me. He really didn't have a choice after all, we had the same home.

'Come on, you're not that mad are you?' he asked behind me, 'You gotta admit, you aren't exactly the most easy-breezy kind of person...'

I scowled and growled lightly, 'okay, take it easy, sorry!' I stopped and turned around, expecting to see his face but all I saw was the empty sidewalk beside me. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

"What do you want?" I retorted. He appeared before me and said, 'a word.'

_You've gotta be joking._

I turned and walked away angrily.

'No! Wait! I'm serious!' I heard him call, 'you're one of the only people that see me and can actually keep up with a conversation...well, sort of. Everyone else is blind! And some of the people that are dead with me aren't really good at conversation, some even ignore me...'

I halted my step, "you mean you can see them?" I turned to find his eyes a little wide with surprise.

'Well duh,' he answered, 'we do have something in common don't we?' I just stared at him, 'we're dead.'

"I know that idiot!" I retorted, "but...usually, they don't necessarily see you. You shouldn't even be able to see _them_..." I answered. Surprisingly it was really the longest sentence I had said to him directly thus far. He stared at me seemingly dumbfounded, then his whole face brightened up, 'usually_,_' he put a finger up, 'So that must mean I'm special.' he stated, grinning.

I sighed heavily, "idiot," I murmured as I began walking again.

'Hey bastard! I'm no idiot!' he called angrily after me, 'Geez, the first time I get to talk to someone who actually listens and it turns out to be some stuck up jerk, some luck I have.' he spat.

"Heh, whatever." I said effortlessly.

'Hey I'm not done talking to you yet bastard!' I heard him beside me again.

"Then talk, it's not like I'm going to listen," I said as I neared the corner of the street.

'Then there wouldn't be any point in talking at all!' I smirked, "Precisely." I turned at the corner and neared my new home.

_'You bastard!'_

I tried to ignore the fact that some kid on the street with a bloody wound on his head was staring at me. Apparently, so did the guy that was following me, because his protests died down. If he could even see him. I closed in on the front door and reached for the lock with my key.

'Come on bastard, don't be such an ass...' he appeared before me with a light glare.

"What do you want?" I repeated looking at him.

'Well I _did _want to apologize before you tried to bite my head off...'

"Fine. Apology accepted." I turned the doorknob and walked in. As soon as I closed the door I felt a cold breeze brush against me, and I knew it wasn't from outside.

'_You can't get rid of me that easily,' _I heard him say as I felt a hard stare bore on me, _'I live here.' _

_'Come on,' _he whined, _'it's not like I'm trying to scare you away from the house...' _

"Could've fooled me," I retorted. 

'So you are still angry. Okay. Fine. I'm really sorry okay?' He said as he appeared in front of me with a serious yet apologetic expression on his face . I narrowed my eyes, 'really, I am' he repeated.

"Fine," I said. Instantly he cheered up and his eyes brightened even more, 'finally!' he said throwing his arms up in the air, 'now it won't so awkward living in the same place!'

"Now what do you really want?" I asked right after.

'What?' he seemed surprised at my question.

"I don't completely believe you were seeking out forgiveness," I narrowed my eyes,

"now were you?" letting complete skepticism seep through, I stared at him.

"You're smart," he smiled as his eyes glinted, "show-off"

"Can't say the same about you," he glared at me.

'Hey asshole, I don't recall me ever doing anything so bad that you'd hold a grudge!'

"Says the guy that basically made me feel like I was dying," I retorted angrily.

'Yeah? Well I said I was sorry, you're just an unforgiving ass' he said childishly, sticking out his tongue, 'geez, I try to apologize and you act like I was the one who put the stick up in your ass.' he rolled his eyes.

"You seem to have the knack for calling me an ass in all it's available forms, what, can't come up with anything?" I clicked my tongue, "moron." I almost left. Almost. But before I did anything the thought that I was actually having a conversation with someone who was buried somewhere in a cemetery hit me, and I was not only speaking to this person but arguing with him as well. I stopped midway my step.

'Why are you so mad anyway?' he said as he stared at me a glare still in his features, 'shouldn't you be used to this stuff by now, or at least somewhat? You're the first person to not freak out and leave this house or say anything to anyone. That, and I can sense it. So I'm guessing –you aren't as normal as you put yourself out to be'

_I put myself out to be normal?_ I thought, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah? Well you aren't as stupid as you put yourself out to be" I smirked at his angered expression. I began to wonder if we were getting anywhere by actually arguing like this and started to get annoyed.

"What's your point anyway? What do you want?" he instantly perked up and payed attention.

'What do I want? That's simple. Like I said, I thought you were used to this –I need your special help with something,' he smiled.

_Figures,_ I thought instantly, _help._

'Unless you run like all the others. You don't though, you tentatively watch to see what I do next, and you don't run off when I appear before you. Somehow I can't seem to figure out why the others before you never stay and help me –they all run and don't even ask themselves why it's happening'

"Maybe because you give them the hint that you don't like them," I stated.

'You see –you too. I don't do that to scare you with that little bloody scene you went through, partly anyway, but as a way of hinting in itself." he smirked at my puzzled expression, 'ah, you see, now who's the smart one?' my puzzlement suddenly gone, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What?"

'You see, those people as well as yourself weren't playing a death scene, rather, you were replaying...' he smiled, almost maliciously, '...mine' his creepy smile changed into something playful, 'funny how they never seem to figure it out, or try to anyway...'

I stared at him, almost bewildered, "I acted out your own death?"

He chuckled, 'yup!'

It occurred to me that suddenly the whole situation had made a rather interesting turns, and that this ghost, or kid, or something, wasn't your usual run-off-the-mill supernatural phenomena. It was weird talking to someone who seemed alive, and actually thought I wasn't strange, and also seemed to know he was dead and was surprisingly fine with it.

I wondered whether answering his plea of help would be such a bad idea. What could happen? I had at least helped some of the ones that came to me. They were nice, if not, friendly –though they rarely spoke.

I stared at him as he just stared at my thoughtful expression on my pondering of him, "You aren't normal, are you?" I inquired raising my brow at him.

He suddenly broke his solemn expression off into a childishly wide grin, "well, duh"

I wonder, if it would be so bad.

_......................................_

The Notes.

The ending is a little abrupt for me, and I don't like it U_U (hey look, a text face!). Though somehow I like it. I still don't though, it's a mixed feeling. Kinda mutual.

Yeah, anyway!

This is super late, and excuses should not be allowed. However, I still will put them up.

Excuse number one: my computer went ka-blooey, so it was a long time before it was fixed. Number two: After it was fixed, I was busy. Three: to be honest, I also procrastinated and was lazy (hee).

So here comes my apology. Sorry it was later, and that this chapter was sorta strange. Somehow all that rhymed, adding to the apology. I am honestly sorry though.

Also sorry if this has corrections to be made, I proof-read before I submit, it sometimes fails.

I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, please review.


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